Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

The vast majority of soldiers fighting each other were without armor; sharp swords drew blood with a light slice, and long spears could take a life with a thrust to the chest.

In the midst of screams, shouts of killing, and pleas for mercy, someone hoarsely cried out in desperation, "The ones with red scarves are the rebels! Red scarves! Rebels!"

Next to a gap in the wooden palisade, Mason found an anxious Tang Juan.

The latter had two soldiers holding his legs, lifting him up as he watched the battle with a serious expression.

"Where is Mr. B?" Mason asked as soon as he saw him.

"Don't know," Juan bit his lip tightly.

"How's the battle going?!"

"Damn it!" Tang Juan's handsome features were somewhat distorted as he tightly clutched the hem of his garment, "There's no way to escape, we're all trapped inside! It's turning into a bloodbath!"

Fear can make a person succumb to the 'fight or flight' survival instinct; if it truly escalated to a bloodbath, the outcome would be hard to predict.

Juan jumped back to the ground and bombarded his senior with questions: "What about your cannons?"

"Brought the ones that can still shoot," Mason pointed to the log-like objects his soldiers were carrying.

"Good! Wait for my signal, then fire all at once! Aim where there are more people, don't mind the friendly fire, just bombard them!" Juan swung his arms, ordering the soldiers he could still command, "Everyone else, follow me!"

With that, Juan ran north along the palisade, and the soldiers followed without understanding why.

"What are you doing?" Mason yelled at his junior's retreating figure.

Juan didn't look back: "I'm going to open the camp gate!"

...

Winters had deliberately spread the rumor that Captain Mason and Lieutenant Bard were tasked with relocating the refugees and had already left Revodan.

In reality, only Bard had gone to relocate the refugees while Mason secretly led the troops to build the "new" Hammer Fort.

During this time, Mason had also improved the wooden cannons.

The original wooden cannons required long, straight, and thick timber reinforced with iron hoops, which proved too cumbersome to build and found to be usable only a few times upon testing.

So the artillery captain gave up on pursuit and directly made disposable wooden cannons instead.

Difficult to get large timber?

Then use smaller ones, makeshift with wood of about a foot in diameter.

Too troublesome to hoop with iron?

Then don't hoop it, since it's disposable anyway.

Timber is thin and not hooped with iron, which makes it easy to burst?

Then reduce the gunpowder.

The result was these log-like "wooden cannons."

To call them cannons was a stretch; they were more like oversized wooden matchlocks.

They didn't even fire lead or iron shot—there wasn't enough lead or iron to waste—but rather stone fragments.

Killing the enemy was difficult; the primary purpose was the noise, and to shower the enemy's face with debris.

This extreme "corner cutting" did result in tragically weak wooden cannons, but the cost was also as low as it could be—after all, it was just drilling a hole in a piece of wood.

Therefore, Captain Mason had made hundreds of them in one go and was still continuously producing more.

Now, what limited the size of Mason's artillery unit was no longer the number of cannons, but the insufficient supply of gunpowder.

...

In the barracks of Vernge County, no high ground could be found suitable for mounting cannons, and the range of the disposable wooden cannons was too short.

Mason was as frantic as an ant on a hot pan.

He looked around and couldn't find any place to set up the cannons.

Clenching his teeth, he ordered, "Fire while holding them!"

The "artillerymen" were stunned and motionless.

Even with reduced gunpowder, these crudely made wooden cannons would occasionally burst.

Firing while holding the cannons in hand was like drawing lots for suicide.

Seeing no one move, Captain Mason snatched a wooden cannon from his subordinate: "I'll do it!"

He held the wooden cannon, stepping on something that allowed him to raise his feet, and strained to stand at a somewhat elevated position.

But holding it was still too low, so Mason simply hoisted the wooden cannon onto his shoulder.

His subordinates were so frightened they dared not speak. Firing while holding the cannon might result in a lost hand if it burst; hoisting and firing could mean loss of life.

Juan had already circled to the north side of the camp, had opened the gate, and was frantically waving a flag at Mason.

"Light the fuse!" Mason bellowed.

The soldiers were too scared to move.

"Light it for me!" Mason roared in anger.

A "gunner" with a large red birthmark on his face silently lit the fuse of the wooden cannon in his hands, pushed his senior officer aside, and stood on a stepping stone with the cannon hoisted on his shoulder.

There was a loud "boom," and smoke billowed out as the force of the gunpowder explosion far exceeded human strength.

The people fighting in the camp were startled by the blast.

Mason dashed through the smoke and saw that his old subordinate with the red birthmark was still alive; he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Red Birthmark" was pale, with blood trickling from one ear, his hands trembling uncontrollably.

He tossed away the still-smoking wooden cannon, squeezed out a smile, and began to cough desperately.

Mason suddenly realized how foolish he'd been; firing cannons at people was useless, with the range of these wooden cannons, how many could he hit?

The noise was enough!

"Fire from the ground!" Mason frantically ordered his subordinates, "Everyone, fire from the ground!"

A series of booming sounds erupted outside the palisade, and the melody of the bloody battle paused for a beat.

With the smoke spreading, soldiers on both sides were unsure where the bombardment was coming from.

"Vernge County is defeated! The garrison commander is dead!" At the gate, Juan commanded the soldiers beside him to yell in unison, "Surrender and you won't be killed! Run!"

"Victory!" Mason also led his subordinates to shout in unison, "Victory—victory!"

The soldiers of Iron Peak County quickly caught on and fervently yelled along, "Victory—victory!"

"Run! Run north! Home!" Vernge County soldiers pointed at the gate and cried out.

The ferocity and blood-courage of both sides seemed to have been drained during that pause just before, and the soldiers of Vernge County were fleeing towards the gate, towards home.